Black Blood Rebellion
by Raven T
Summary: Asura has been defeated, the last vestiges of his madness awakening an ancient evil. The DWMA must stand together against a new enemy with the aide of an unknown force. Bewitched black blood, fighting friend and foe alike, a devastating battle draws near. HIATUS


**A/N: Welcome to another new beginning in the world of Soul Eater, brought to you by yours truly, Raven T.~ This idea manifested itself in my head, bubbled and festered like an infected wound, and wouldn't stop its incessant tribal chant of: "WRITE US DOWN! WE ARE GOOD!" until I finally began writing it down. Please excuse the length, chapter size shall increase with each update… If I can last that long and stay away my mortal enemy, Laziness.**

**Disclaimer: I do not owneth Soul Eater, for if I did, I would RULE THE WORLD WITH AWESOMENESS! But I don't. So there. (I own my OC's and ideas, though, and if anyone tries to steal them… Let's just say, it won't be pretty~)**

**Black Blood Rebellion**

**Preface:**

The dilapidated streets, a series of interconnected walkways, cluttered with knocked down garbage cans and littered with remains of a species no one was sure could be identified. They were empty of life, void of man and animal alike except for the trilling critters scurrying around in vain hopes of some sort of morsel to satisfy themselves with.

The horrid smell of decaying flesh wafted about the scene, rotting meat penetrating every nose in the vicinity, the smell of old rust a telltale sign of blood. Everything was silent but for the occasional chirping of a nearby insect, or the muted howl of the wind.

A shadowed figure looked on with a dispassionate gaze, eyes roving the darkened paths for a sign. Eyes like black pearls searched covertly through the ravaged alleyways, shifting ever so slightly at the faintest of sounds and most minute of movements.

The beady beacons locked in on their target, an exhausted and old cat teetering about the top of an unturned dumpster. Said feline was an alley cat in every meaning of the word; cautious eyes that nitpicked their surroundings for any sign of danger, mangy fur ridden with fleas and other repugnant pests, scars and fight wounds from scavenging against other predators, and a flippant, ever twitching tail abused and battered from the life it had lived.

There was a wild light in those eyes, one that had felt hunger too many times, seen kin killed by kin to survive. Fervent, manic, close enough to the edge to see the other side, yet still hang on the very sliver of sanity it had left.

Madness.

Madness was eating away at the feral feline, eroding its mind and sharpening its claws with the poise of a predator.

An easy target.

"Kage."

The whispered words held the shallowest of breaths, the utterance barely audible in the penetrating silence of the barren wasteland dared to be designated as a neighborhood. Spoken soft as a flower's petal, faint as the flutter of a humming bird's wings.

Nevertheless, the decrepit tabby stiffened in alert, a strangled yowl crawling its way through the creature's torn throat, yellow teeth peeking out menacingly through its foul maw. Seeing no danger, but taking no chances, the deranged animal sprang off the dumpster with an alarming clatter, dashing through random roads with fear as its guide.

The figure watched, unfazed, as a bundle of black bolted forth from the shadows, in a dogged pursuit of the frantic feline. A thump and a shriek. Black eyes closed as the sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh filled pale ears. Then silence. Pure, uninterrupted, unadulterated silence. A moment of peace. The grace of God.

The shadowy chaser from before swaggered back with a smug gait, climbing nimbly and with practiced ease onto the darkened figure's shoulder.

A ghostly pale hand ruffled the top of said creature's head, the bone white pallor a stark contrast against the ink stained fur.

"Kage, how many times have I told you not to play with your food. Bad boy."

The voice, just as ghostly as its appearance, was lifeless; the lilting words carrying no emotion other than a soft indifference.

The petite creature, like a small monkey in appearance, crooned under the attention. His fluffy tail flickered like a shadow in firelight. Turning his head, the wilting moonlight shone upon his upturned face, a white, tribal looking mask hiding its features. The eye holes seemed to crinkle into crescents, moving with the little animal's emotions, as if he were smiling.

Black beads rolled over the expanse one last time before the figure cloaked in darkness turned on its heel and swiftly walked away.

**X**

**X**

"Maka, really, shouldn't we take a couple 'a days off after fighting Asura? Working with stiff muscles is _so_ not cool." drawled a scratchy baritone.

Droopy, blood red eyes found olive green, and a girl with subdued blond locks let out a sigh. "Soul, we still have a duty as DWMA students to continue our search for demon swords and other kishins. Besides, we've already spent too much recuperating time, and you know it."

Seeing his sulky expression, Maka smirked. "Plus, we still have to make you a Death Scythe."

He watched her from the corner of his eye, a lazy grin on his ruggedly handsome face. Her cheeks turning a rather flattering shade of plush pink, Maka turned back to the mission board, suddenly determined to find something _other_ than her companion's fiery eyes to stare at.

"SOUL! MAKA! IT'S THE GREATEST HERO THE WORLD'S EVER KNOWN, THE MAN DESTINED TO RISE ABOVE G-"

"BLACK*STAR, STOP YELLING!"

The weapon and meister pair locked eyes, similar expressions of exhaustion and grim acceptance wallowing in their depths.

A familiar hand, clad in black fingerless gloves, clamped hold of the white-haired male's arm with an unknown fierceness. Soul followed the lean, yet muscular forearm upwards, passed the rippling biceps and bare shoulder, and into the beaming face of their hectic friend, Black*Star.

Looking behind the blue-haired boy, Soul could see Tsubaki's tall form standing in the background, a tired smile on her face.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Tsubaki queried, eyes roaming from Soul to Maka, then to the wall. "Picking out a job?" she laughed lightly, "That's just what we were about to do."

Maka smiled, "Yep! I was just telling Soul here that we still need to make him a Death Scythe." With a teasing glare to Soul, Maka's eyes returned to the board. Descriptions floated through her sight, green orbs never staying in one place for too long. Few caught her attention, such as:

_Bounty: Witch Aurora_

_No_, thought Maka, _we don't need a Witch's soul yet._

_Investigation: Magic Tool Whereabouts Unknown_

_That _sounded promising, she thought. But seeing as it was pasted along with all the other, less threatening jobs and not specified by Lord Death himself, she amended it probably wasn't.

Growing continuously more frustrated with each fruitless search, one title finally caught Maka's eye, excitement and suspense coursing through her veins at the sight.

_Investigation: Pure Soul Disappearance, Cause Unknown_

Smiling with obvious relief, Maka snatched it from the board, but was pulled short.

"Maka?"

Pale green orbs widened at her name, turning to face the page. Another hand, smothered in gaudy bracelets, grasped the same mission as she.

"Liz?"

All heads turned to regard the newcomers; the Thompson sisters in their matching tees and jean products, and Death the Kid, regaled in all his symmetrical glory, his three, famous white stripes adorning half of his midnight hair.

He raised an inky brow, his regal tone confused, "What are you all doing here?"

Soul let out an easy-going laugh, a kind grin splitting his face, "We could ask you the same thing, Kid." Concern covered his features. "You sure ya should be walkin' around? I was told you took a bad blow in the battle."

All faces darkened, and Kid absentmindedly felt his abdomen, a shadow passing over his pale visage. Quickly regaining control, Kid smiled easily.

"I'm fine now, thank you. We were just about to find a job as well…" his calm tone trailed off, eyeing the piece of paper still being held by Maka and Liz, both unwilling to back down.

"W-why don't we all do a mission together? It could be nice to work together on an easy mission, considering our last battle was rather… _stressful_." Tsubaki, ever the mediator, tried to pry the paper from the two girl's iron grasps.

Patty laughed, but no one really knew whether she understood what was going on, or was just enraptured in her own little world.

Soul grinned, slugging an arm around Black*Star's shoulders. "Sounds cool," Soul turned his brilliant, scarlet orbs on Maka, "What about you, Maka?"

Feeling rather embarrassed by her childish behavior, Maka reluctantly, and with noticeable difficulty, released her hold on the parchment. Smiling awkwardly, she nodded with a genuine gusto.

Kid rolled his eyes teasingly, before sighing in mock exasperation. With a fake pondering look, he "grudgingly" agreed, though his smile gave way to his indubitable excitement.

Liz and Patty agreed as well, and Black*Star whooped with joy.

Feeling jubilant and joyous for the first time in a while, the three teams headed their separate ways to pack, deciding a time and place to later meet.

**X**

**X**

Lord Death stared with unwavering eyes at the magic map strewn about his table, gaze trained on the miniscule dot blipping throughout the landscape.

One of his magicked items, the printed projection displayed soul energies inside and near the border of Death City in the form of blinking dots, similar to a sonar or radar.

Spirit, his scarlet tresses dark in the dim lighting, took a step forward, peering around Death's hulking frame.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" his tone cautious, weary; expression lost of its usual comedic glow, replaced with a seriousness unknown to most. Too few people actually believed he possessed a sense of reality at all.

Death's squeaky voice was abnormally solemn, "I'm not sure, but from what I've gathered, this same small dot has been circling the city for the past eight days. Never trailing too close, nor straying too far."

Spirit, alarmed, questioned why nothing had been done.

"Well, my friend, what should be done? I sense no malice coming from this traveler, nor any exceptional amount of madness. There have been no incidences coinciding with its appearance. What could I do?"

Both grew quiet in the truth of his statement, minds whirling.

The Death Scythe's brows pushed together, confusion evident in his tone, "Sounds like its trying to draw our attention to it… Whether that's good or bad, I'm not really sure…"

Death nodded gravely, his face a grim mask.

Abruptly brightening, Death let out a string of goofy chuckles, the laugh bouncing around the room with its normal buoyancy. Spirit's eyes widened, and he jumped from the unexpected noise.

"Um… Lord De-"

"Hoo hoo hoo, no need to worry about it!"

Spirit gaped, disbelief coloring his tone, "B-but, sir…!"

Another voice, a lower cadence than Spirit's, made its presence known from the entrance.

"I agree with Spirit," sounding bored and unimpressed as always, Stein strolled into the room, "Hard as it is to believe…"

Spirit's indignant huff went ignored, as per usual.

A disturbing smile wormed its way along Stein's stitched face, "We should at least invstigate, Lord Death."

Death only nodded, his exuberant mood unchanged, an all-knowing grin about his long toothed mask.

With an air of mystery only he possessed, Death cheered, "Already underway!"

**X**

**X**

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please tell me what you thought in a review! I'll answer any and all questions either through a PM or in the next update! Stay tuned!**

**RRRREEEEEVVVVVIIIIEEEEEWWWW!**


End file.
